A Beautiful Mess
by Little Horatio
Summary: Proving that she’ll do anything to save a dear friend, Calleigh made a deal that would cost her everything, including her own soul. It takes one sacrifice to save three lives. Who will it be? E/C. DuCaine. HandS, friends. Chap2!
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Beautiful Mess

Author: Little Horatio

Warning, filled with: Angst, Tragedy, Comfort, Sacrifice, Friendship

Summary: Proving that she'll do anything to save a dear friend, Calleigh made a deal that would cost her everything, including her own soul. It takes one sacrifice to save three lives. Who will it be? E/C. DuCaine. HandS, friendship.

Disclaimer: Like you, I don't own CSI: Miami, even though I wish I did. If only it rained money, I would've owned them by now.

Note: Hey, guys. This is my second attempt at DuCaine so, please, be gentle. And also, this is my first attempt at E/C so...do the same, okay? And, of course, my pal, Rick Stetler, has a part on this, too. Believe it or not, Horatio and Rick are friends in this new fic of mine. Yup. You heard right. They're friends. You know, like, they actually like each other's company. It's not that unusual, right? What? I like Rick. What's so wrong with that? The IAB brunette and the redheaded CSI always go well together. Well, in my fics, they do.

Oh, yeah, almost forgot. There are some details here that may confuse you. I changed some of our CSIs' history so...don't worry, everything will make sense.

Anyway, I hope you guys will like it.

Main characters: Horatio Caine, Calleigh Duquesne, Eric Delko, Rick Stetler and Seth

Chapter 1

The breeze was cold but felt good on the skin. The sun was high up in the blue sky, partly covered by magnificent white clouds that were in different sizes and shapes. One looked like a baby rabbit.

Birds were chirping and colourful butterflies were circling by the flowerbeds, ready to sip some delectable nectar. Not a single noise was to be perceived other than Mother Nature herself; and no other people but the two were to enjoy the pleasant scenery. Indeed, it was truly a beautiful day.

Too bad it didn't make any difference.

He was still going to die.

They were at the park, sitting on the grass, appreciating the shade from a very old tree. And as always, they were alone.

"You should fix that, you know."

Calleigh looked up at her friend, not getting what he meant. He gave her a weary smile and reached out, getting her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Oh," she said, fixing her hair so that it wouldn't block her features. "Thanks."

"No problem," Andy replied, gently smiling at her. "Besides, you look more beautiful that way." They gazed at each other, blue to green. "Especially when you show your eyes."

"Stop it, you're makin' me blush," Calleigh told him, looking away, her cheeks turning red.

Andy raised his eyebrows. "That was the idea."

They laughed.

Calleigh gazed at him. Andy was a lanky, fair-haired teenager with blue eyes that reflected the clear sky, while she was a petite but tough blonde with green ones. She was sixteen, and Andy was only a year older.

The two of them had been friends for so long that they didn't even remember exactly when they first met. They didn't really care. They just enjoyed each other's company very much.

Andy brought a knee up and leaned using his elbow as he watched the sky slowly move. He was unaware of Calleigh watching him, her eyes trailing all over his body. What she saw made her very depressed.

Not long ago did she find out that her best friend had a severe condition. His mother told her. It was cancer. Incurable, she said. And he only had months to live.

She couldn't stop herself from crying.

Calleigh sighed inwardly. It explained many things, including his sudden change during the last few months. He went thinner, paler, weaker. He quit the basketball team. He barely got out. And he almost never smiled.

She hated herself, for not knowing. What kind of friend was she, being so blind? She couldn't even figure out what was wrong with him until his mother had told her. It made her angry, not being able to do anything.

She brought up her knees and hugged them tightly, thinking of a way to sort things out.

"Uh, Cal," Andy uttered, looking at her, confused. "You okay?"

"Huh-what?" she stammered, coming back to reality. "I-I'm fine."

"You sure?" he said. "Looked like you had the world's weight on your shoulders."

"I'm fine." She smiled for effect. Andy didn't know that she knew about his condition.

"This about the competition tomorrow?"

"Uh, kinda."

"I told you, don't worry about it." He raised both his arms, and pretended to hold a gun. "You're the best there is and you're the youngest contender." He brought his arms down and looked at her. "You're too good at it to lose."

Calleigh merely shrugged. She joined the shooting competition and was not surprised to find out that she was the youngest and only female who signed up. The youngest male was nineteen years old.

"You know," Andy began, "I still have no idea why you chose to shoot guns as a hobby."

"Hey, I don't just pick up a gun an' pull the trigger," she said, trying to sound offended. "I assemble 'em too."

Andy laughed weakly. "You know, you're tougher than most of the guys I know."

Calleigh smiled. "I'm not tough," she said. "I'm resilient."

"Wow, that made a lot of difference." He saw Calleigh stare at him. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that, well—" How would she put it? "—you keep saying how beautiful my eyes are when I'm sitting here jealous about your blue ones."

"What's to be jealous about?" he asked. "I like your green ones better."

"Well, I like blue better than any colour."

Andy gave her a look, before turning away mockingly. "Just make sure you do your best tomorrow. I don't want to walk around school with a loser next to me."

"Gonna be there?"

"Of course," he answered, making himself sound hurt. "Moral support, you know."

Calleigh giggled and gently pushed him. She glanced at her watch right after.

"Well, gotta go," she said with a sigh. She stood up and patted the grass off her clothes. "Have to get ready for tomorrow."

"Okay," getting up himself. "Good luck tomorrow. Don't disappoint me."

Calleigh smiled. "I have no reason to."

They bade each other goodbye and went their separate ways. After walking a couple of feet from where they separated, Calleigh couldn't help but sit down on the near-by park bench and just let despair drown her.

What will she do, to help a dear friend?

_Everything._

But how?

She sighed heavily, and was surprised to see her own breath in the air. She then realized that it was suddenly cold. _At this time of year? Impossible._

And, at that moment, somebody sat beside her, which made her look up.

"Mind if I sit here?" the stranger said, giving her a smile.

Calleigh could only nod as she stared at him. The man—no, the teenager—had snow white hair...that was long enough to cover his eyes, his golden catlike eyes. 'Can such a thing exist?' she thought dauntingly. She had no idea.

She looked down at the rest of his body, which was incredibly pale, marble white, flawless. He was wearing all white; a white sleeveless shirt with the collars standing up, white denims that were torn on one pant-leg, and white footwear. He had a tattoo in black that ran down from the inside of his elbow to his wrist that she couldn't quite make out. And he had a little black, metallic pendant hanging from his neck.

It was a cross. Calleigh looked again, carefully, to make sure. It was an inverted cross.

She looked away, not wanting to think about what she just saw, or the teenager beside her. She had others things in mind right now, important things.

"Calleigh Duquesne," the stranger suddenly uttered. He turned to her, a thin smile on his face. "Right?"

To answer the southern blonde's questioning look that was mixed with bewilderment, he added, "Saw you at the old man Trenton's shooting range." He smiled, more to himself. "Name's Seth, by the way." He offered a handshake.

Calleigh nodded as she shook it. _Why was his hand so cold? _

"You're pretty good, Calleigh," he said in a refined voice, "at what you do."

"Thanks." Calleigh was beginning to feel more than uncomfortable.

She turned away, looking far at the opposite side, hoping that that was all the strange teenager had wanted.

"What's the matter?" Seth continued, sounding concerned. He tilted his head. "Worried about Andy?"

Calleigh's jaw dropped. "H-how..?"

"Like I said, I saw you at the shooting range." Andy was always with her whenever she practiced. "Besides, a blind man could see he's sick, Calleigh," Seth answered simply, as if it explained everything. "What is it?"

"Cancer," she said, as soft as a whisper. It was the first time she said the cursed word out loud.

"I'm sorry," Seth said with genuine concern. "Of course, the worse part about cancer is the time it takes...the toll on the loved ones."

Was this guy reading her mind? She didn't want to know.

"Lives are altered," he went on. "Everything changes..."

Calleigh looked away, her head drooping. She and Andy have been through so much together. Ever since they were kids, it's been just the two of them. They grew up together, succeeded together, failed together. All those wonderful times...coming to an end because of some stupid sickness.

She had to do something. Anything.

Seth studied her expression. His lips curled. She didn't see him. She was too busy thinking how helpless the situation Andy was in right now, which made things all the more better for him.

"Hey," he called for her attention, showing sympathy in those feline eyes of his, "what if I could help Andy?"

"Really?"

Did he know some kind of doctor who specializes in treating Andy's kind of disease? Did he have some kind of foreign medicine? Maybe there was still hope after all.

On second thought, what if this guy was just pulling her leg? Messing with her? They just met, why would he help some stranger like her?

"How?" Calleigh finally said, thoughts jumbling in her mind.

"How's not important." He let a small smile show. "If I could make him feel better..."

Calleigh swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Bring back his health..."

Seth's golden eyes glimmered as he tilted his head, again, to the other side.

"Would you be willing to make a deal?"

A cold breeze hit Calleigh's face, making her hair sway furiously to one side. She shivered involuntarily.

She wanted to believe the stranger—Seth's every word. She really did, but something inside her mind forbade such a thing. What if this was just some sick joke?

What if it wasn't?

Calleigh's hands balled into fists.

"Name your price."

Seth smiled, obviously pleased with her answer. _Ah, humans...so many flaws to take advantage of. _He laughed inside. _And I have all the time in the world._

"How about..." Seth gazed into her eyes, his golden eyes burning through Calleigh's green ones. "...I take..." His eyes gleamed. "...your soul."

Calleigh's eyebrows furrowed. She was furious. What the hell what she thinking anyway? She actually believed him. She'd never felt so stupid in her life.

She stood up, and decided to just leave before any more wackos popped up.

Seth remained seated in the bench. "By sunrise, Andy will be as healthy as he was before," he called out, making the blonde teenager stop in her tracks. "Maybe, even more."

Calleigh couldn't help it. She looked over her shoulder to see Seth's face, whether or not he was enjoying this. The white-haired teenager got up gracefully, light on his feet. He was looking at her, smiling that smile of his again, so twisted. She couldn't help but get a creepy vibe from him.

Out of thin air—or maybe Calleigh just didn't see—Seth was suddenly holding a roll of ancient-looking scroll. He held it out for her, heavy, brown parchment crinkling as he unrolled it for her inspection.

"It's your choice."

Calleigh couldn't move as she warily eyed the expensive-looking piece of paper. Paragraphs of hand-written texts were inscribed, but she couldn't make out what it said.

_Is that Latin? _

Try as she might, it was hard not to take this peculiar negotiation seriously.

Slowly, she reached for the paper as if entranced by it. Her fingertips felt the rough surface, feeling how old it was. She grazed the edges, feeling it firmness as she examined. What resulted was a nasty paper-cut.

She jerked her hand away, hissing in pain. And, at that point, a drop of blood landed on the ancient parchment, coincidentally, right on where one would sign on the dotted line.

Calleigh looked down at her middle finger. The cut was deep, and blood was still coming out profusely.

"That'll do just fine," Seth said, drawing back the blood-speckled parchment. He smiled at her.

"Good luck tomorrow," he said with a grin and grazed his fingers on her cheeks.

"You'll need it..."

At that second, feeling imminent death, it jolted Calleigh—

--causing her to sit bolt upright in bed.

She gasped heavily; sweat trickling down from her forehead. She looked around. There were no more trees, no grass, no birds, no sun. And the stranger—Seth—was nowhere to be found. She was back in her room.

_That was one hell of a dream, _she thought, pressing her palm against her temple. She was beginning to have a headache.

"Damn…"

Something shifted beside her.

"You okay, Cal..?"

She looked at Eric Delko, beside her in bed, leaning on his elbows. He was looking back with sleepy, concerned eyes. He reached out, his fingers gently grazing her cheek.

"Bad dream?"

"Yeah…"

Calleigh forced herself to lie back down, trying to forget what she had seen in her sleep.

"Come 'ere," Eric said, letting her rest her head on his bare chest, embracing her with his strong arms under the covers. "This okay for you?"

"Just the thing I needed," she told him with a thankful smile, making herself comfortable.

Eric kissed the top of her head, and started to hum.

Calleigh felt the rumble as she lay on his chest, feeling superbly at ease. She closed her eyes, resting snugly on him, his chest rising and falling as he breathed.

And not for long, she drifted back to sleep, unconsciously hoping that her dream would not come back.

………………………………………………………………………

Little Horatio: That was interesting, was it not? You decide.

Tell me if I should continue.

Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Little Horatio: First of all, I apologize for not being able to post anything as of late. I know that you've been waiting on updates in my current stories, and for that, I am deeply sorry.

Though I have not been able to even get an inch—trust me when I say this--near a keyboard, I have been busy writing the old fashion way, with a ball-point pen and a notebook. And "A Beautiful Mess" is one of the stories I have written several months ago, but only posted just now.

Soon, there will be updates in all of my on-going fics, I can assure you. And I even have sequels—can't tell you on what fic though.

Anyway, just enjoy yourselves, okay? I'll do my job properly this time. I don't want to disappoint any of you again with my failure to post. So, please, be lenient.

And, by the way, thanks for those who read my work and a special thank-you to those who left comments. They helped in ways innumerable.

Okay, then. On with the show.

Chapter 2

Getting tired from burying his face from all the paper work, Lieutenant Horatio Caine got up from his seat, and decided to stretch his legs. He walked around in his office, taking a glance at the clock on the wall. In less than half an hour, the clock would strike four. Not that it mattered, really.

Unaware of it, he ended up standing next to one of the glass walls in his office, the one that gave him a full view of the trace lab. He looked down.

His jaw tensed.

Calleigh Duquesne was bent over a microscope, examining evidence; her shining blonde hair falling to one side. She then straightened up and took the pen from the breast pocket of her lab coat, and started scribbling down notes.

Her hand, Horatio observed, moved swiftly, fluidly, delicately.

He smiled.

Of course. It wasn't really surprising. She was his ballistics expert. She was excellent when it came to her hands, her precision. She was also impeccably smart, kind-hearted, cheerful, energetic, resilient.

And she was beautiful.

He sighed.

And as if Calleigh had heard him, she looked up from where she was, and saw her boss. Her green eyes beamed in delight and she gave him a bombshell smile.

Horatio blushed mildly at his getting caught. And was about to return the greeting when, suddenly, something wound roughly around his neck, startling him.

"Hey," IAB Agent Rick Stetler greeted gladly, his arm still around the man's neck.

"R-Rick!"

"Hunh. That's odd," he said curiously, his smile already gone. "You sound surprised," he added, knowing all too well that Horatio was a very hard man to surprise.

"Get off," Horatio growled.

Rick ignored him. "What were you doing anyway? You didn't even hear me come in.

"Oh," he said once he had looked down from their spot. He saw Calleigh laughing. When she caught his watch, she waved pleasantly at his presence. He waved back. She shook her head, still giggling, and went back to work.

Horatio gave him a piercing stare. "Do you mind?" he said, indicating his intruder's arm.

"Depends," Rick replied, unaffected by the look the redhead was giving him. He was too used to it to get bothered. "When will you stop making that face?"

"What face?" asked the lieutenant in annoyance.

"That one," he pointed at the glass wall. Horatio followed. It was his reflection.

"It's really irritating," Rick added in a laid-back voice.

"Well, I'm really sorry, Rick; but I can't really do anything about that, now, can I?" Horatio shot back. It was strange, but, Rick was the only person he could talk to like this without ever worrying about anything. The rest were another story.

"Why not?"

"Well, because I was born with this face, for one thing..."

Rick gave him a blank look. "You know what I mean, Red."

Horatio looked away. "No, I don't."

The brunette sighed and let go of his friend. "Whatever you say." He inserted his hands in his front pockets and looked down again.

Silence fell as they watched Calleigh work in the lab. A minute passed and she was now with the company of one Eric Delko, the department's official diver. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, arms around her waist.

"How long has it been?" Rick said in a serious tone, his eyes still on the two. He knew for a fact that they're both exceptional CSIs. And that they're also together.

"Seven months, twenty-two days..." he answered softly.

Rick saw him drop his gaze, his head hanging limply from his shoulders.

"You haven't gotten over her, have you?"

Looking down at his hands, he slowly shakes his head.

"No..."

"_Do you love her?" the Cuban asked calmly, but his face was stern, his eyes burning. _

"_Horatio, do you love Calleigh?"_

_Horatio looked at him with soft eyes of sky blue. They were alone at the roof of the building, the place where they agreed to meet, to discuss their conflict. He saw that the younger man was serious, that he was willing to do anything at the moment, if need be. _

_He was willing to fight._

_Eric waited for an answer he was dying to hear ever since he realized; realized how the redhead looked at Calleigh, how he talked to her, how he treated her, how he cared for her, how he touched her. It was the same with him. Everything. It was the same. _

_They both loved the same woman. _

_They were both in a predicament. It almost crushed him, to think that the other was his boss, his friend. He wasn't entirely sure, but he wasn't going to give up either way. Even if Horatio was his competition, he was willing to fight. For the woman he loved. The Calleigh he cherished above all else._

_They locked eyes, light blue and dark brown._

"_Yes. I love her," Horatio finally answered, his fingers fiddling the arms of his sunglasses. He saw the younger stiffen at the confirmation. He already made a decision. He was going to do the right thing. _

_He took a step forward, standing sideways now, his eyes never leaving his younger colleague. _

"_I love her as a friend, Eric."_

_With those words, the redhead watched as Eric stared at him wide-eyed. He places a reassuring hand on the other's shoulder, feeling how tense he was._

"_I love her as a friend, Eric, so there's nothing to get all worked up about," Horatio said steadily, his eyes soft, his head tilted to one side, his lips curved into a small smile. "Okay?"_

_It was at that moment that the young CSI was able to breathe. He abruptly let his gaze fall, turning his head, so as not to look into those deep, understanding blue eyes. He felt ashamed._

"_I...I'm sorry," Eric croaked apologetically. "I just thought...you...and her..."_

"_It's okay, Eric." He didn't want to see him like this. "It's okay."_

"_I love her, you know."_

"_I know..."_ _That's why I'll give her up, Horatio thought painfully._ _"And I also know that you'll take care of her...protect her."_

"_With my life."_

_Horatio swallowed the lump in his throat. It's for the best, he convinced himself internally._

_He forced a smile. _

"_That's what I needed to hear..."_

"And, yet, you let her go," Rick commented, turning away from the scene below. He went to lean on his friend's desk, crossing his arms on his chest. "Without a fight, I should add."

Horatio looked back; the pain in his eyes said it all.

"You love her," Rick told him, as if the redhead didn't know. "You could have given her everything."

"Love is not based upon of what one gives," Horatio stated, turning away. He looked back at the scene below, his hand slightly trembling. "But of what one gives up."

"You love her..." muttered Rick, repeating himself, "...yet you gave her up."

"I had to."

"I know, I know," Rick answered back with a scowl as he scratched the back of his head, giving up. "For Delko."

"I want him to be happy," Horatio simply answered.

Rick knew what the other meant. Horatio felt so guilty about Marisol's death. The Mala Noche Gang thought Marisol Delko was his wife, when, in fact, they were just close friends. He couldn't forget the pain on Eric's face when he found out that his sister was murdered, the redhead confessed to him on that day.

He sighed, feeling sorry for his friend. He had gone through too much death. And he didn't want to know how he was coping, even though he already had an idea.

"He needs it," the redhead added. "After what happened to him...he deserves to be happy."

Rick bit his lip, eyeing his friend carefully. "How about you?" he asked. "Don't **you** deserve to be happy?"

"A man like me?" he said questioningly. He just chuckled as if what he said was funny. When he stopped, he said in an unfathomable tone, "I'd rather not answer that question."

The brunette shrugged, then went back to his place, beside the redhead. He looked down again. Eric and Calleigh were laughing.

"Looks like they're both happy," commented Rick. He turned to his friend.

Horatio gave him a weary smile. "Don't worry about me."

Rick remained silent. I'll try, he thought.

"Besides," Horatio said, finally leaving his place and settling on the office sofa, suddenly feeling exhausted, "they're perfect for each other."

"Seems so," mumbled Rick. Without leaving his eyes on the two, he asked, "I know I'm being monotonous, but...Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, sir," the redhead replied to his friend, his face unfathomable.

Rick was about to nod in understanding when Horatio added, "Though, I would feel a little better after a hot cup of coffee."

The brunette was about to say that there was still some in the break room but instead gave the other a look and said, "My treat, huh?"

He knew very well that this was one of Horatio's ways of coping; forcing himself to just forget about what he can never have, always diverting or changing the subject...to get away.

Horatio chuckled, leaning forward, his elbows now on his knees. "Ah, Rick, you spoil me too much."

The IAB Agent rolled his eyes. "Hunh, tell me about it." He turned to the door. Hand already around the knob, when he remembered, "Don't you still have paper work to finish?"

"It can wait," the lieutenant answered, getting up from the uncomfortable sofa. He was getting tired of pushing paper anyway.

Rick shrugged and went out the door.

Meanwhile, Horatio took one last look at the couple, looking so happy with each other. Good for them, he thought, and followed his friend out.

**~~~~CSI: MIAMI~~~~**

"Hey," Rick called Horatio's attention. They were already out the parking lot. "Next time, it's your turn, right?"

"If you say so."

"Good, because there's this new place I've been thinking of trying out. Said they had the best coffee in the state."

"Why don't we go there right now?" suggested Horatio.

"Hah!" exclaimed Rick. "Not when I'm buying."

At that comment, Horatio laughed, making Rick chuckle. It had been a long time since he heard his friend express amusement like that, and it made him calm inside.

It was good to see Horatio at ease for a change.

"Thanks," the redhead said once his short laughter ended. He smiled.

Rick smiled back in return. "No prob. That's what friends are for, right?"

"Yeah," Horatio said in a low voice, and slyly added, "and free coffee."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Rick raised an eyebrow before getting in the driver's seat.

Horatio chuckled and followed suit.

Watching them leave the parking lot from afar, CSI Ryan Wolfe stood looking from the window in the break room, mug in hand.

"Weird," he said, loud enough for the others to hear.

"What is?" Calleigh looked up from the sofa.

"H leaving at this time of day--" he said, stopping abruptly to gulp down the rest of his coffee.

"Leave the man alone," Calleigh told him in a teasing tone. "He deserves to leave early to have at least a little time off."

"Yeah, but...with Stetler?" Ryan said in a quizzical tone, turning to her.

"Why not?" she said. "I mean, they are friends," she added, feeling like she was stating the rather obvious.

His eyes widened. "They are?"

At that, the bullet girl laughed. "What? Didn't you know?" She shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. "You've been here for a long time, Ryan. You're a CSI. Use your noggin'," she scolded delightfully. "How could you not know?"

"No, the question is, 'How COULD I have known?'" he restated indignantly. "I mean, I've seen the two bicker non-stop ever since I landed a job in this place. And there were a lot of occasions when they're more or less at each other's throats."

"Yeah, but everybody in this building knows they're friends," Calleigh said to him, emphasizing. "And, I mean, EVERYBODY."

"Everybody?"

"Yup."

"Aw, dammit," Ryan muttered, slumping at the other side of the sofa. "I'm the only one out of the loop again."

"Cheer up, Ry; it's not your fault." Ryan gave her a glare. "Oh, okay, it is your fault," she caved, eventually shrugging the whole thing off.

"Anyway, from what I heard, Horatio and Stetler have been friends since they were kids."

Ryan looked at her, eyebrows raised, looking as cynical as ever. "You heard this piece of information from somewhere."

"Yup."

"You do know that it's not even credible, right?"

Calleigh shrugged. "Not sure. All I can say is, most of the gossip swirlin' around here end up bein' true, so, there's a possibility...that they're not only friends... " She beamed. "They're BEST friend."

The young Wolfe gave her a look. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

She smiled. "Kinda."

Ryan heaved a sigh, thoughts flowing in his mind, making him so preoccupied that he didn't even noticed Calleigh watching him with an amused expression on her face. He looked funny, she thought.

"What's with the face, Ry?" she finally asked.

"No idea," said a voice, making Calleigh turn. "Got stuck would be my guess."

Ryan turned and scowled. "Delko."

"Just kidding, Wolfe," Eric grinned, before sitting next to his girlfriend who giggled. "You were saying?"

The young CSI took a moment before saying, "It's just that...I still can't believe that Stetler and H are friends—let alone BEST friends!" Ryan looked like he was saying something outrageous. "I mean, they're complete opposites!"

"Well, you know what they say, Ry..." said Calleigh, glancing at Eric and placing her hand on his, "...opposites attract."

Eric looked at her and held her hand tighter as he gave Calleigh a grateful and endearing smile. He never felt happier...

...Which all the more made Ryan want to roll his eyes at the two.

He put a lot of effort on preventing himself from smiling.

The two were meant for each other.

................................................................................................................

Little Horatio: See? I told you Rick and H are good friends. Why can't people see that, I wonder.

And Ryan, stop pretending that you're not happy for the both of them.

Anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you liked it.

Send word if you want to voice out something; errors or whatever you can come up with.

Thanks for reading.


End file.
